


Forming His Patronus

by TheMightyFlynn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23592223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyFlynn/pseuds/TheMightyFlynn
Summary: The form your Patronus takes is based off the memory you choose to use to cast it. Draco cannot work out what form his has taken.
Relationships: Viktor Krum/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 14
Kudos: 103





	Forming His Patronus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smirkingcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smirkingcat/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Forming His Patronus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27857402) by [Roritopopito](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roritopopito/pseuds/Roritopopito)



> Happy birthday, smirkingcat! I have taken a bit of liberty with some things in this, I think (and 'borrowed' an idea from you!) I hope you like it. :)

Fourth year at Hogwarts was the last time Draco remembered being happy. No, that was wrong. There was _one particular point_ in his fourth year that he remembered being truly happy.

The Triwizard Tournament had been in full swing. The first task had come and gone, and the contestants were preparing for the second one. It was not the Tournament that Draco had been focussed on, however. No, all of his considerable concentration was focussed on the Yule Ball. Rather, the Yule Ball and who everyone was going with.

_The Durmstrang students had been staying close to the Slytherins for a while. They didn't choose to sleep in the castle, although Draco thought the castle must be much more comfortable than in that draughty ship they had arrived on. Krum in particular seemed to prefer interacting with the Hogwarts students rather than his own supposed friends, and Draco in particular._

_"I am told I must find a…_ suitable _date for the Ball, Malfoy," Krum muttered to him one morning at the breakfast table. "Someone my Headmaster would_ approve of _."_

_He scoffed, shoving scrambled eggs around on his plate. His head was down, his eyes fixed on his food. Krum never seemed happy to Draco. He was always scowling, and always had his head down, staring at his shoes. Draco shifted in his seat._

_"'Approve of'? What does that mean?"_

_It took Krum a while to respond. His bushy brows seemed to draw down even further as he sat there thinking. Draco returned his attention only partially to his own breakfast. Something strange squirmed in his stomach, almost like nerves. Eventually, Krum seemed to give up. He curled in on himself, with his shoulders slumped and his head lowered so far Draco thought his large nose would touch his eggs soon._

_"Female."_

_Draco's insides clenched. His head snapped around, staring at Krum intently. Surely he couldn't have just said what it sounded like he said?_

_"What?"_

_Krum shifted again, his shoulders tensing. "Female," he repeated, his voice gruff. "I must take a girl."_

_A sharp pain hit Draco just below his ribs. Or was it a pain? It was almost pleasurable, if that was even possible. Whatever it was, it made it difficult to breathe properly._

_"You, ah… You want to take someone else?"_

_What a daft fucking question! He shook his head the second it was out of his mouth._ Clearly _Krum was unhappy about not being able to ask a guy._

_"Is that bad here?" Krum was so curled in on himself that Draco had no chance of catching a glimpse of his face. "Is it… how do you say… unlegal?"_

_Draco couldn't help a small smile. "_ Illegal _. And no, it isn't. We're free to love who we want here. There isn't any judgement if you want to take a guy to a dance."_

_He'd heard rumours. Durmstrang was very secretive with their location, unlike Hogwarts. But there were rumours. None of them were good, especially for students who didn't fit very strict, old-fashioned views. Seeing Krum sitting the way he was, Draco was incredibly thankful that his mother had insisted on sending him to Hogwarts rather than Durmstrang. He cleared his throat, not wanting to scare Krum away._

_"Maybe this guy would want to meet you anyway. Even if you did take a girl."_

_He had no idea what he was doing. He was fourteen, for fuck's sake! Krum was a few years older, and an internationally famous celebrity! Draco's heart thudded against his ribs as Krum's head turned towards him. Eyes nearly as black as Krum's hair met Draco's, holding his gaze._

_"You think so?"_

*~*

_The Yule Ball was a horrible experience. Draco had asked Pansy, simply so he would have someone to go with. There was no way he could have gone with who he wanted to, but they had a plan._

 _Draco's jaw was so tight the entire night that he was certain he was going to break a tooth accidentally. Granger. Krum had asked_ Granger _. Draco's insides had twisted at the sight of the two of them dancing the entire night, and had yet to untwist. But it seemed his luck was turning: Granger was arguing with Weasley and Potter. Krum glanced Draco's way as she stomped out of the room. Now. Now was their chance._

_The hallway was dark. Draco could hear footsteps stomping on the steps, but they were retreating. He glanced around quickly, trying to see whether he was alone. Making his way down the stairs towards the Slytherin dorms, he kept a watch on the doorways. Nerves fluttered through him. There was no way to tell just when it would happen; he had left that part up to Krum. When it did, then, it startled him._

_Krum stepped out of the shadows of one of the unused classrooms. His shoulders were still slumped, but his head was up, his eyes meeting Draco's with a confidence Draco had never felt about this. Krum didn't hesitate._

_Krum's lips against his were surprisingly soft. Draco's hands fluttered through the air, his breath stopping altogether. Words. He had expected to speak to Krum before…_ this _. Not that he could object. Viktor Krum was someone Draco had had a crush on for a while now. But… Air. He couldn't breathe. Stepping back, Draco's mouth fell open. He gasped for air, blinking in the gloom._

_"Not good?"_

_Draco's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. His hands were still waving uselessly through the air. Krum frowned at him._

_"Fine. I can take a hint."_

_He turned, his shoulders curling again. Draco's stomach flipped._

_"No!" His voice was much louder than it should have been. The word echoed through the empty corridor. Draco cleared his throat. "Wait. Don't go."_

_Krum stopped, but didn't turn. "Why?"_

_Draco didn't answer verbally. Their second kiss was just as chaste as the first. Draco took control, however. With his lips closed, he pressed close, making sure he could still gasp for air if he needed to. His eyes slid shut as Krum sighed against his lips._

_"This is good."_

The memory floated through Draco's mind each and every time he felt even the slightest bit of fear. This time, however, it wasn't just simple fear he was feeling. Standing in the lobby of the Manor, he was staring up at the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord. In _his_ house.

"I wish to thank you, Lucius, for so _kindly_ offering your home for our use."

A chorus of snickering hissed around the lobby. Draco's hand dropped to his wand, hidden at his side by the voluminous material of his robes.

"It is an honour beyond any, my Lord."

The hissing laughter increased. Draco's muscles tensed as he glanced around. This was not the first 'meeting' the Dark Lord had called since his resurrection. It was the first time that so many of his followers had attended, though. It was also the first that Draco had been ordered to attend. His hands trembled by his sides as he stood and listened.

He took in hardly anything that was said. It was the actions that Draco was more concerned with. The quick glances in his direction when his parents were preoccupied. The 'accidental' brushes past him. The hints of accusation to the voices that spoke to him. It all had him so tense he could barely move. He made his escape as soon as he could.

His rooms were his sanctuary, at least for the time being. No one had dared to enter without his permission as of yet. He knew it would only be a matter of time, however. Clenching his fingers around his wand, he sank to the floor in one of the corners of his bedroom.

His eyes squeezed shut as tight as possible. The memory of those kisses was the only thing that could help him. Pointing his wand, he took a deep breath.

" _Expecto Patronum_."

The Patronus wasn't fully formed. It never had been, actually. A giant, shimmering white blob, it hung in the air in front of him, casting its light across the room. Draco knew that he would be unable to cast a fully-formed Patronus. He didn't know how he knew, but he _knew_.

The blob floated in the room, unmoving. Draco reached out, poking at it with his wand. When that did nothing, he used his fingers. There was something about it; something that was both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. It had been conjured using the memory of Krum and those hesitant kisses, but what the form could be, Draco had no idea. He also didn't know whether the warmth he felt around it was imagined or not. He would take it, however. It was the only warmth he was receiving from anywhere at that moment.

*~*

It became a habit. Draco would search out a quiet place and cast his unformed, blobby Patronus each time fear jabbed at him. He thought it would have gotten easier – that the form would solidify – especially considering how often he cast it during his sixth year at Hogwarts. But, no. The Patronus stayed a giant, shimmery white blob.

His hands clenched, the handle of his wand digging into his palm. Heat and smoke surrounded him, billowing out from under the door of the Room of Requirement. He had been dumped, unceremoniously, from the back of Potter's broom, landing on his arse in the corridor. Nausea washed over him, causing his stomach muscles to clench. Goyle lay a few steps from him, panting harshly. Crabbe…

Draco's stomach heaved. Scrambling on his hands and knees, he made it to a corner before bringing up the little he had been able to eat that day. When he finished, he collapsed back against the wall, his eyes sliding shut. Without even thinking, he uttered the charm, casting the formless blob. Warmth spread through him, the light from the Patronus turning the insides of his eyelids red. The memory was as strong as it ever was.

_Soft lips. Rough hands. A harsh sigh as they pulled back. Whispered words in a thick accent Draco had difficulty understanding. A warmth so strong it felt as though he would never be cold again._

The light seemed to brighten for a few seconds as Draco reopened his eyes. The blob floated before him, as large as ever, taking up nearly the entire corridor. Draco wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before reaching out to touch it. It shifted, swirling, but still shapeless. He sighed, shoving himself to his feet. Waving his hand through the blob, he dismissed it with a thought.

"Goyle?"

*~*

"In the cell, Malfoy."

A large hand in the middle of his back shoved Draco into a tiny room. It was barely big enough for the iron-framed bed and small wooden table that occupied it. Draco stood by the door, his hands clenched.

His trial was set to start in half an hour. He scoffed. These 'trials' were a bit of a farce. Everyone knew that the Malfoy family had been strong supporters of the Dark Lord. His father had done it openly on some occasions, and they had fought against the students at Hogwarts. His mother had not been Marked, but that didn't matter. The Ministry had sentenced people without the Mark for supporting the cause. As for Draco himself, he knew that he was doomed. Not only was he Marked, but Rowle had been blabbing like a baby in an attempt to get out of a death sentence. Draco's role in Dumbledore's death was surely known to the Ministry by now. Closing his eyes, he brought up the memory again.

The Patronus this time was longer than usual. It had always been an incredibly large blob. It was just, this time, it seemed… He didn't know. There was definitely still no shape to it. It had to be an animal, he knew, because there was no other choice. But just _which_ animal was the question he couldn't answer.

It hung in the air, unmoving as usual. Draco stepped forward. He still clung to the memory of the kisses as though it was a lifeline. And, truthfully, it had been. He didn't know how he would have managed to survive the past few years if he had been unable to give himself some form of comfort. And comfort was definitely what this giant blob gave him. Reaching out, he waved his hand through it.

The familiar warmth flooded through his chest. The mist of the Patronus swirled before him, shifting with the pattern his hand created within it. The shimmering light it gave off lightened every crack in the tiny room, chasing away each and every shadow.

"Malfoy!"

Draco grimaced. The Patronus shivered and vanished, leaving him standing in the room on his own once again. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the door, holding onto as much of the warmth it had offered him as he could manage.

He entered the courtroom with his head down. The lights there were bright enough that, after the gloom of the cell he had been in, Draco's eyes watered. He was guided to the very centre of the room and locked into a chair with magically-controlled chains attached to its arms. His fingers twitched with the need to grasp his wand as fear flooded him. It was a comforting reaction to have, most of the time, but this time… He shivered. The guard had confiscated his wand when he had exited the cell. He hadn't gone long without the comfort of his blobby Patronus since he had learned to cast it in fourth year. There was no choice this time, however.

Taking a deep breath as the Minister called the room to order, Draco raised his head. Members of the Wizengamot sat all around him. Of all ages, genders, and social statuses, they all stared down at him. He knew it was an intimidation tactic, and had been prepared for it. What he had not been prepared for was the sight of a pair of black eyes watching him from what appeared to be a section set aside for the press.

_Krum?_

Draco's fingers twitched again, flexing in a reaction that was deeply ingrained in him by that point. Familiar warmth flooded him and he stupidly glanced around, searching for his blob of a Patronus. He was so distracted by the sensation that he didn't pay any attention to the trial at all.

Voices washed over him, some angry, some pleading. Potter stood before him, speaking passionately about his actions during the final battle, and telling the Wizengamot how his entire family had defected from the Dark Lord. Rowle was dragged out and grilled as to Draco's commitment to the Dark Lord, as counterpoint to Potter. None of it was really heard, however. Draco's world had narrowed down to those black eyes and the warmth pooling in his chest.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy."

Draco blinked and dragged his attention from the press pit. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood before him, his head raised regally. His formal robes were immaculate, flowing in a way that told Draco they were bespoke. He emanated such a sense of superiority that Draco knew he _should_ be fearful. And, normally, he would have been. The warmth that held him, however, seemed to be preventing every negative thing from reaching him right at that moment.

"The Wizengamot has heard the charges against you. We have heard the testimonies of Mister Harry Potter, and of Mister Thorfinn Rowle, and a decision has been reached."

Nausea flooded through Draco. His mouth opened, wanting to tell Shacklebolt to not pass his judgement. Just let him sit there in his own little personal bubble of warmth, with those eyes watching him and memories from years ago floating through his mind. Nothing came out, however. He sat there, his mouth gaping open like a stunned fish. Shacklebolt continued, as Draco knew he would have even if he had been able to get his mouth working again.

"It is the decision of this court that you are free of the charges of murder placed against you. There were exceptional circumstances that need to be taken into account when passing judgement on you." The courtroom buzzed with voices, but all Draco could do was stare. "We are placing you under house arrest for the foreseeable future, however. This is not just a punishment for your role in the war, but also a cautionary move on our part. There is a great risk of members of the community trying to take the law into their own hands, and we hope that this measure will prevent that. You will report your activities to an Auror who will be assigned to you once you leave this courtroom. You will have your magic monitored and, if it is detected that you are using spells that are deemed to be unsuitable, you will suffer the consequences. Your assigned Auror will be able to provide you with a list of approved spells. Do you have any questions?"

A drumbeat began in the room. Draco glanced around, his eyes unseeing, but trying to work out where the noise was coming from anyway. It took an embarrassingly long time for him to realise that he was hearing his own heart. It pounded so hard in his ears and against his ribcage, he was surprised to discover that he couldn't actually physically see it through his clothing.

"Mister Malfoy?"

"Ah, yes. I mean – no. Thank you," Draco stuttered out, his mind still scrambling to work out what had just happened. His gaze flicked back to where those black eyes still stared at him from the press pit. "May I have friends visit me, Minister?"

The buzzing increased in volume. The eyes shifted, almost as though their owner was adjusting his position. They held Draco's gaze, however, unflinching and unblinking.

"That can be discussed with your assigned Auror, Mister Malfoy. So can anything else that does not apply to this trial." Shacklebolt nodded to someone over Draco's shoulder. "Take him out."

The chains holding Draco to the chair slithered back with a loud clank. Nerves hit Draco's stomach with a force that stole his breath. He sought out the eyes as the guards grasped his arms to haul him out of the chair, but they were gone. He stumbled as he was half-dragged out of the courtroom.

"Krum, he–"

"Shut-up, kid. I don't give a shit."

Instead of being brought back through the door he had entered the room through, Draco was taken to another, much smaller room. It was here that he received his wand back and, the second the guard had left the room, cast his Patronus again.

" _Oh_."

The familiar warmth flooded through his veins, but it was different. Instead of the giant white blob Draco had become accustomed to, the Patronus had taken a shape. The tiny room was barely large enough to contain such an enormous animal, and the light was nearly overwhelming. Draco reached out, his fingertips brushing against the Patronus' ears.

"The hippopotamus has always been my favourite animal, you know."

Draco smiled wide at the heavily accented voice. Glancing over his shoulder, he met those black eyes; eyes that were shining with trepidation and hope.

"I figured it had to be you."

The smile Krum offered him was crooked, sending a jab of that same pain to the bottom of Draco's ribs that he had experienced so many years before. Turning back to the Patronus, he nodded. Maybe it was time to create some more happy memories.


End file.
